lady-of-goldengrove:
Elaenys imagined in her mind that a steward or perhaps a servant, even a handmaiden would come looking for her to take her to her new chambers in the Red Keep, but when she saw The Hound, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes and bit her lower lip. She knew his story, every one in the Seven Kingdoms did. He wasn’t a Ser, he was just a dog who did what his masters demanded of him. She had actually met him in a tourney to celebrate Olenna Tyrell’s name day. “So, this my welcoming party?” she snorted. “The Hound himself, the dog of Lannisters and Targaryens alike”. She got closer to him barely reaching his chest. “Speak to me in that tone again and I’ll burn the other half of your face”, Elaenys said with a smile before walking past him.
He strikes her as familiar - a name even comes to mind. Elaenys Rowan, he thinks. All he can remember about her is how strange the woman was when she approached him after a tourney. Women rarely did so willingly, not that anything came out of it. Beyond that, he doesn’t remember much about her. Certainly nothing that clues him into why he’s the one walking her to he chambers, at least nothing beyond convenience for the Queen. Her mocking of his name and his loyalty doesn’t earn her a thing. He’s heard it all before, nothing if not redundant.
Despite the waste of his time, Sandor doesn’t complain or protest. He dutifully nods and does what he’s told, following Elaenys back into the halls of the Red Keep. When he expects her to move to avoid him, she does the opposite. His frown worsens, the scarred side of his mouth twitching into a smirk that’s neither irritated nor amused. “Many have tried,” he rasps. The Hound doesn’t think he needs to say that those who have are all dead in the ground. Not bothering to say anything more, he starts toward where her chambers will lie.















